


Tedious Normalcy

by always221b



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, John Watson - Freeform, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, POV John Watson, Park Bench, Sherlock - Freeform, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, pre slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 02:13:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1492924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always221b/pseuds/always221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock don't meet at Bart's, but rather on a park bench on a tedious, normal day that turns John's world upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tedious Normalcy

John Watson sat on his normal bench, eating his normal sandwich, desperately wishing that something,  _anything_ , would stop the tedious normality his life had become. Ever since being invalided back to London from Afghanistan he'd faced nothing but normal or boring or tedious, and it was beginning to make him question why exactly it was that he got out of bed in the morning. Actually, if he really thought about it, from his first day back he'd had no idea why he was getting out of bed in the morning. 

A sudden jolt from the other end of the bench broke his self-destructive thoughts, causing him to look up at the source of the weight change. A tall man with pitch dark hair and snow white skin sat on the other end, looking for all the world as if he'd been there for hours. He turned and looked at John, his mouth turning up slightly but the gesture never reaching his eyes. His eyes, John noticed, were a storm, all greys and blues and greens. Surely no one could have eyes that beautiful and enigmatic. 

John then noticed it was probably odd to stare into a complete strangers eyes, so in an attempt to keep the moment from becoming more awkward, he reached his hand out and said, "John Watson," with a smile. The man looked from John's outstretched hand to his eyes then back to the hand, as if he had no idea what to do with it. Eventually he plastered on another half hearted smile and took John's hand, offering a, "Sherlock Holmes," before jerking his arm once, dropping it, and turning to face forward again.

John, in another attempt to keep things from becoming awkward, asked, "Having a nice day?" The stranger, Sherlock, turned to face him again, this time with a look of exasperation, and said, "Would you mind keeping the mindless drivel to a minimum. You've no reason to be speaking to me, so do carry on with your sandwich so you can get back to your boring job as a GP. Boring because you're used to much more adrenaline, being a veteran of either Afghanistan or Iraq. Also, I do think you should call your alcoholic brother, he's called you three times the entire time I've been sitting here, so it's probably something important, possibly about his ex wife." 

John stared at Sherlock, mouth hanging half open in awe, before looking down to see his phone lying face down on the bench in between them. He picked it up and, yes, there were three missed calls from Harry. When he looked up again the strange man was now staring blankly ahead, now with his figure set with an air of annoyance and urgency.

"That was amazing," John said in an almost whisper, not quite sure how the mysterious man had known so much about him. Sherlock turned to him with a jolt at his words, looking utterly perplexed. 

"You think so?" he responded.

"Of course. How did you know all that?" John asked.

The man took a breath and then started, "The way you hold yourself says military but you've got an employee's badge from the surgery up the road in your pocket, so army doctor. I can tell you were invalided home, as you've got a cane leaning on the arm rest beside you. Your phone is expensive, too expensive for a man wearing the jacket you are to have bought it on your own, so a gift, and the engraving on the back says ' _To Harry_. My guess would be brother, as it's a young mans gadget, so not father, but too expensive to be from an uncle or cousin. The ' _XXX Clara_ ' says it's a romantic attachment, and the expense says wife not girlfriend. Now this models only three months old. Three months on he's just giving it away means he left her. If she'd left him, he'd have kept it. Sentiment. So he gave it to you, probably after you came home, to keep in touch. Now you can see from the scratch marks along the charging port that his hands were shaking as he went to plug it in. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone, never see a drunk's without them." 

John looked at him, completely wide eyed, and breathed, "Absolutely amazing! Brilliant!"

"You really think so?" Sherlock asked, taken aback and confused.

"Yes, of course!" John replied.

"That's not what people normally say."

"What do they normally say?"

"Piss off."

John looked at Sherlock, slightly concerned, only to see a small, genuine smile, playing at the corners of his lips. They began to giggle, but Sherlock cut off abruptly with a grunt  when a young man in nothing but plaid boxers came out of nowhere, jumping over the back of the bench, pushing the tall man onto the ground and landing on top of him. Once they were both there, the mostly naked man grabbed Sherlock by the hair and picked it up as if to slam his face into the cement beneath them. John felt the adrenaline begin to course through him as he shot of his spot on the bench and dove for the half naked man, shoving him off Sherlock and pinning him down on the ground. Sherlock jumped up and walked over to where John held the squirming man down, and snarled, "You're under arrest," before giving him a quick kick to the head, knocking him out. 

John stood and faced Sherlock, trying to piece together what had just happened. Finally he gave up and simply asked, "What just happened?"

Sherlock smirked as his confusion and replied, "This man murdered four people over the last week, I've been trying to draw him out all day."

"Are you a police officer then?" John asked, still very confused.

"Oh, God no. I'm a consulting detective. Only one in the world, I invented the job. When the police are out of their depths, which is always, they consult me," Sherlock replied.

John took a breath and was beginning to ask why the police would consult an amateur when a man in a long tan coat who looked like he hadn't slept in a week ran up the walking path and stopped in front of Sherlock.

"Oh, Jesus Sherlock, did you kill the man?" he asked looking down at the criminal.

"Of course not, he's just unconscious," Sherlock replied smugly. 

The man nodded, then looked at John. "Who are you then?" he asked.

"Lestrade, this is John Watson. John, this is Detective Inspector Lestrade," Sherlock answered before John could even open his mouth.

"Right, well, I'll call Donovan to come take care of that," Lestrade jerked his chin towards the unconscious man, "and you'll meet me at the Yard to finish this up in an hour."

"I'll be there when I get there, Lestrade," Sherlock replied before walking away, towards the park entrance and the street, motioning for John to follow, which he did.

They walked for a moment in silence before Sherlock broke the silence, "Coffee? I can finish telling you the case, if you'd like." He looked at John suddenly seeming nervous.

"Sounds great," John replied, smiling up at him.

"Wonderful," Sherlock answered more confident, "I have another observation John," he continued.

"Go on then," John replied.

"The limp was psychosomatic."

John looked down, then back at the bench, eyes wide in disbelief. 

"Yes, yes it was," John replied, chuckling and turning his face forward, leaving his cane and limp at the bench where tedious normalcy became anything but, thanks to Sherlock Holmes.

John smiled, "So, coffee then."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I might want to continue this into possibly something slash, like do some one shots. Lemme know what you think about that please!


End file.
